


Something to Look Forward To

by MadamBiscuit



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Timeline, ChronoaxZamasu, F/M, Psychological, Supreme Kai of Time x Zamasu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23874349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamBiscuit/pseuds/MadamBiscuit
Summary: As idolized as eternal life is, it's incredibly lonely.  Chronoa stumbles upon the story of the Kaioshin Zamasu and is determined to find companionship in him.  Will Zamasu, the genocidal god, feel the same?  He doesn't seem as crazed anymore.  Mostly just . . . empty. (Chronoa x Zamasu)
Relationships: Chronoa/Zamasu, Supreme Kai of Time | Chronoa/Zamasu (Dragon Ball), Zamasu/Chronoa
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for @ritostime on Twitter.
> 
> I am taking a few liberties on this one to make it work. Just go with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art created especially for this chapter by @ritostime on Twitter

* * *

Chronoa sighed, crossing her legs up on her desk in the time nest as she leaned back in her seat. Things had been fairly quiet lately, so she hadn’t seen the Time Patrol in a while. Had it been days? Weeks? Months? Years? She never really was certain of how much time had passed. 100 years was the blink of an eye, after all, and everyone always told her that her estimates of how much time had passed were severely overstated. Regardless – it had been quite a while and she was horribly bored. Who was she supposed to talk to? Tokitoki? Holding conversation with a bird was dull at best. The Elder Kai? No, that guy was beyond irritating and a total creep. 

“I could call Trunks here.” She tapped at her chin with one of the scrolls before tossing it into the disorganized mess along with the others, “No. I don’t have a mission for him. That guy is all business all the time.” Even Trunks would die sooner rather than later, so she couldn’t rely too much on him for companionship anyhow. They all would die eventually. “Oh come on, Chronoa – don’t think of things like that right now.” She let out another long sigh and stared up at the ceiling in silence.

 _Silence_.

At least she had her own patrol now that she could interact with. Just how long had she done everything herself? Just how long had she kept herself so isolated? She turned her head to gaze over the mess of the room she saw day in and day out.

“Hm?” As her eyes lingered on the pile of scrolls, she saw a scroll that appeared darker in color than the others. “That’s . . . is something wrong with it?” Finally! Maybe she’d have some action so she didn’t have to spend her time alone for a while! It was wrong of her to want someone to mess around with time, but . . . it was fine as long as they could correct it, right?

She snatched up the scroll and unwound it, “Ah, no . . . this is . . .” Her eyes widened a bit. It was one of the timelines created by Trunks and his time machine. He had created several, but this one . . . “It was ended. The whole timeline . . . it’s gone.” It was a timeline that never should have existed, and yet something about seeing it had been eliminated made her blood run cold. The only beings she knew of who were capable of destroying an entire timeline were herself and the Omni King. “Why would the Omni King get involved?” Still, the death of the timeline was likely the explanation for the darkened color of the scroll. The story had ended. How had she not noticed it before?

“Of course you didn’t notice it, Chronoa – this place is an absolute disaster.” She scolded herself, knowing full-well she had no intention of cleaning it all up.

Chronoa brought the scroll back to her desk, shoving everything else off it so she could view the story of this timeline. Spreading the scroll open, she held a hand over it and closed her eyes to view the story of the timeline, much like watching a movie in fast-forward. She knew the story of the androids, of Cell . . . but who was this? Son Goku? And . . . A Kaioshin?

She watched the saga of the Kaioshin apprentice Zamasu and himself from another timeline unfold. In all of her millions of years in existence, she could not once recall a time in which someone who was already at the level of Kaioshin apprentice had fallen to an evil heart. She would have even gone so far as to say it was impossible, had she not seen this. “Zamasu . . .” He had become immortal, had deemed himself perfect and righteous. He did not see the evil in his plan or in his methods. Could someone like that truly be considered evil? It was no wonder the Omni King had to eliminate him, though. Trunks, Goku, Vegeta . . . none of them were a match for him. Even the Potara fusion, Vegetto, had run out of steam.

Chronoa opened her eyes once more upon viewing the conclusion. The scroll wound itself up again. “Gone, just like that . . . a powerful, immortal Kaioshin . . .” The words lingered on her lips for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest for a reason she wasn’t quite sure of. “Zamasu . . .” That timeline was gone, but what about another? Was there a timeline in which he still existed? Was there . . . was there a timeline in which he had succeeded in his goal?

Why did it matter?

“It can’t hurt to just look, right?” Who was she even trying to justify herself to? 

Zamasu’s face lingered in her mind, especially when he had begun to cry. His body was falling apart, his perfect world disappearing before his eyes. He was devastated and something about that struck a chord within her. Zamasu . . . wasn’t entirely evil, was he? Then, why? “There must be another timeline with him.” She dug through the mound of scrolls on the floor, cursing herself for her own laziness and disorganized chaos before checking the scrolls piled high on the shelves.

There were several bits of history with Zamasu’s information in them and many timelines with him still alive as well. He had been erased while still an apprentice in a couple of them. There were also timelines where he never stole the body of Son Goku and was still an underling to Gowasu. “Come on . . . there just _has_ to be a timeline where he wins! I know I shouldn’t wish for something like that, given the circumstances, but . . . of all the splintered timelines, please just let this one exist!”

As if to answer her pleas, a scroll suddenly fell on top of her head. She’d thought it had fallen from an upper shelf, but upon glancing upward she saw none other than Tokitoki. He stared at her with knowing eyes, though that gaze was laced with a hint of concern, “Is this the timeline I’m looking for?” She offered the bird a soft smile, “Don’t worry – I’ll make sure to be extra careful. If things look dicey, I’ll return immediately. Zamasu doesn’t seem to have a command over time, so he can’t come to a place like this as he pleases.” Her grip tightened around the scroll in her hand as Tokitoki flew out of the room.

“Powerful, handsome, immortal . . . and a total bad boy!” Chronoa grinned from ear to ear as she did a small dance, “Let’s just hope you aren’t completely evil – that would kind of be a deal-breaker.” Chronoa laid this scroll out just like the other and looked into the current state. It was . . . void of mortal life, save for non-sentient creatures. It was about a year or so after he’d finished off the last of the mortals and he was still on the planet called Earth in Universe 7. “He never left?” Chronoa opened her eyes once more as the scroll rolled itself back up. “Well that at least makes it easier on me. Only a year later, though . . . will that have been enough time for him to calm down from when he killed Trunks and the others?” She furrowed her brows as she stared down at the scroll. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all.

“No! I won’t change my mind! I will go and if things look bad, I’ll just come back here! It’s as simple as that! No matter how powerful he is, I am a force to be reckoned with in my own right!” She laughed softly, a sad sort of laugh. “Why am I saying all of this out loud? Who am I even talking to?” She sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day as she readied herself to head to the other timeline . . .

. . . and stopped abruptly.

“Ah! I can’t go there looking like this! What was I thinking!? He’ll call me a kid for sure! I’ll use my Power of Time Unleashed form instead. Besides . . . I may need to make use of that power.”

* * *

Zamasu sat on a cliff’s edge, his legs hanging over the side as he gazed out over the canyon that stretched as far as his eyes could see. The sun was only just rising. It was beautiful, just as it was every day that he’d seen it. Sunrise and sunset were beautiful on every planet he’d visited. No matter how near or how far, that orb of light was most welcome. It was . . . something he could always look forward to.

How long had it been since he’d accomplished his goal? He hadn’t kept track of the time at all. What did it matter? He had forever to go, after all. He would rule over this perfect utopia for all of eternity. This perfect, beautiful, warless utopia . . . this quiet, lonely, empty utopia . . .

At first he had celebrated his victory. He had gone from world to world, universe to universe, destroying all remnants of sentient civilization. He had been able to see the nature of each planet beginning to reclaim its territory. The pollution caused by mortals had dissipated far more rapidly than he could have hoped! It was all like a dream! His perfect utopia had finally been realized!

. . . but he was alone.

Zamasu and the one they called Goku Black had made many plans together of how they would celebrate their victory and how they would enjoy each morning of the new dawn they’d birthed. A cup of tea together each morning out on the terrace, watching the sun rise over the mountains and trees that surrounded their cabin . . . or wherever they chose to live at that time. But . . . when the time finally did come and Zamasu was excited to have such a moment, he was alone. He sat at the table alone. He had tea alone. And all the while, he stared across the table at the chair which sat empty.

The cabin . . . it had been a long while since he’d gone back there. Would he be able to face it, now? After that moment of realizing just how lonely he was, that was when he’d gone around to the various planets and cleaned them up. All of this was supposed to be thrilling! That was the true sign of their victory!

‘Their’? Who?

“My victory. My utopia. Mine alone.” Zamasu fell backward, his legs still hanging over the edge as he stared up at the morning sky. The pinks, oranges, and purples of dawn were beautiful, but they did nothing to sooth his mind. All the beauty in the cosmos would not be enough to give him the utopia he’d dreamed of. A utopia where they ruled together, hand in hand. A utopia where they were the only gods, the only sentient beings . . . and they were in love. Their love would be enough to span an eternity . . . though . . . Black would have died eventually anyway, would he not? 

He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, his silver eyes sliding shut. They had carefully planned and calculated so many factors, but had neglected to think of the ultimate future. They were too focused on the Zero Mortals Plan itself and did not pay any mind to what would come after they’d emerged victorious. Fusion . . . it was permanent. Had they not considered the repercussions whatsoever?

“Thoughts such as these are completely useless, so why do they constantly fill my head?” He rose from the cliff and flew in the direction of the cabin. He needed to put such feelings to rest. With time, surely these emotions would leave him. No matter how deeply those two had felt for each other, their time together had been very brief. Why, then, was it affecting him so much? “This must end.”

He flew back toward the cabin. His body felt heavy, so he flew lower to the ground than he used to. It had been like that for a while now. He felt lethargic in general, but knew he was not capable of falling ill. So what was it, then? His poor sleep quality? His lack of food intake? Even if he could not die or suffer injury, he did still feel the effects of a lack of sleep or poor diet. How inconvenient. 

“Heh . . . but what does my power matter now? I could sleep for days or weeks, even years and decades at a time and what would change? Nothing. The cosmos will simply continue on as they ought to. They do not require my help any longer.”

Weak, unnecessary, alone . . . these were the thoughts that filled his mind again and again and again.

And just as had happened each time he’d tried to visit the cabin, the very sight of it was enough to make his chest and throat tighten until he had no choice but to turn away yet again. He needed to destroy it. It was a relic of the past that the humans of Earth had created . . . but he could not do it. Those walls echoed the words, the love, the happiness of Black and Zamasu. How could he destroy the one piece of them that was left?

“Someday . . . someday I can do it, but . . . that day is not today, I suppose.” He glanced back over his shoulder at the building, images flipping through his mind of the two gods happy together on that terrace that now sat empty. “I . . .” The words caught in his throat and he didn’t bother to finish his statement. What sense was there in speaking aloud what he felt? It was best not to. “I am perfect. I am without flaw. I do no wrong. I have fixed the cosmos of all the mistakes ever committed by the gods of old.” He could only repeat this mantra in hopes that someday he would fully believe it.

* * *

Chronoa arrived quietly in the desolate timeline, hoping she would not immediately be detected by Zamasu. She straightened her long, white robe and made sure her long hair was neatly in place. “First impressions are important! I am the Kaioshin of Time – I need to look and act the part!” Still, she could not help but feel a bit on edge. There was something incredibly eerie about a world that was completely silent. Not just silent in the sense of sound, but in the sense of ki as well. She could not feel any sentient life whatsoever, save for a massive amount of godly ki not too terribly far from where she’d made her entrance. 

“That must be him.” Of course it was; who else would it be? “His power is immense, but . . . it doesn’t feel as great as I would have thought. Has he grown weaker rather than stronger? Can a year of inactivity really cause such a difference?”

She took a moment to look over her surroundings. Rolling hills, lush vegetation, a sun that was just peeking over the horizon to begin the day. She could hear birds, the faint sound of a flowing stream, and the leaves rustling as the wind caught the trees. “This is so . . .”

“Beautiful.”

Chronoa’s eyes widened considerably as she turned around upon hearing a voice behind her. Sure enough, Zamasu stood only a few feet away, staring down at her. He was taller than she’d realized – typically their race was on the shorter side. It was a good thing she’d thought to transform for sure.

“U-uh . . . Um . . .”

“Well this is a new one.” He tilted his head, his thin brows furrowing as he appeared to study the woman. “How have I concocted such a depiction?”

“. . . huh?”

Hallucinations. Zamasu had seen quite a few of them, though it had been a while since he’d seen the last one. Usually they were hallucinations of Zamasu and Black, though sometimes he would see Son Goku, Vegeta, Trunks, Vegetto . . . and even mortals screaming for their lives. This, though . . . he’d never seen what looked very much like a Kaioshin woman. “What is it that drives hallucinations? Perhaps I should be more mindful of what I consume.”

“Halluci-hey! I’m not a hallucination!” Her temper slipped out a bit and she quickly straightened up again, laughing nervously, “I-I mean . . . I’m really here. My name is-“

“What?” Zamasu stood straighter, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as his pupils shrank down, “No. That’s impossible. I killed them all. I killed all of you.” His heart was racing like it had not done in ages. This hallucination was more advanced than the others. That was the only explanation. His constant lamenting and negativity was surely beginning to take its toll. “I should go lie down. Perhaps I am tired.” He had not slept at all during the night. Time was of no importance anymore. There was no schedule to keep, no chores to tend to . . . when he slept and when he woke was irrelevant.

“Woah, hey! Stop! I’m not a hallucination! I’m right in front of you!” Without thinking, she took the few short steps forward and placed a hand on his chest, “You are Zamasu, right? I am Chronoa.” Would it be okay to tell him her title? He had killed all of the Kaioshin without a second thought. Would he try to kill her as well?

The moment her hand touched him, the world seemed to stop moving for Zamasu. His breath caught in his throat and all he could hear was the rhythm of his own heartbeat. He could feel it. This small, delicate hand placed upon his chest . . . he felt the slight weight of it through his clothes. He saw her, heard her . . . but the same had been true for all of his hallucinations. But . . . to be able to feel her touch. 

“You are . . . actually here?” It was too much for him to understand right now. How? How could anyone have been left behind? Was there some land he could not reach? A place where she had hidden herself? Were there others? Had he not truly succeeded in his plan after all? Had he failed their plan? “How? Where? It’s not possible . . .” He stared down at the hand, his silver eyes wide with confusion.

“Yes, I am actually here.” Chronoa kept her guard up, but this was going quite differently than how she had anticipated. Rather than a powerful, evil god who wanted to kill her upon arrival, she’d found someone who seemed very . . . broken. “I am a Kaioshin, like you.”

“Kaioshin.”

“Yes.”

“Kaioshin . . . that’s not possible.”

“It is very possible.” Chronoa did her best to keep her voice calm and even-toned as she slowly pulled her hand away, but Zamasu quickly grabbed hold of it.

“I killed them.” While he did not raise his voice, he moved his gaze from her hand to her face, a crazed look in his eyes now. “I killed all of them.”

Had he always been this way? She hadn’t seen enough of the details in the timelines to understand. This person did not seem like a refined god in the slightest bit. He was more akin to a wild animal, “I am from a parallel timeline.”

A parallel timeline. Just as the Zamasu from the past had come here and Trunks had gone back for help . . . yet again, this was caused by someone travelling through time. How many timelines were there? How many people would come here to try and defeat him?

“Ha . . . hahaha . . .ahahaha. . .” He couldn’t help but laugh at it. No one could stop him. He could not be killed! They could wear themselves out fighting him all they wanted! No matter what, he would be the one to walk away victorious! “Of course you are from a parallel timeline. How many timelines are there? How many of you will come here to try and defeat me?”

“W-wait, I’m not here to-“

“Silence!” Zamasu suddenly flew up into the air, though Chronoa took note of the way he faltered a bit at first. “I will show you why you never should have come here.” He wanted to beat her down, to squeeze an apology from her dying lips . . . but at the same time, he also felt . . . relieved? There were others out there, still. Someone might periodically come by. Was . . . was there another Zamasu out there he could join forces with? His heart fluttered at the idea that he could regain his companionship.

Chronoa flew up into the air as well. “You’re definitely crazy . . . but . . . Zamasu! I’m not here to fight you!” He didn’t feel strong enough to have accomplished all he had accomplished. What was going on? “I’ll easily have the upper hand in this fight!” A bright halo appeared behind her, much resembling a clock, “I have the power of time on my side! I will not be defeated by someone with your level of strength!”

The power of time? What did she mean by that? “My level of strength!? I am the most powerful god in existence!” His anger flared as he released a burst of energy to manifest his own halo behind him. It had been a while since he’d done that. “Do not mock me!” Though . . . she was the first Kaioshin he’d seen who also had a halo like he did. Just how powerful was she, really? “Which universe are you from?” Wouldn’t he have killed her in this timeline as well, or had she simply not existed here? He couldn’t remember ever seeing someone with her appearance.

“All universes. I am the Kaioshin who watches over time. I protect the various timelines from corruption and alterations. Somehow I missed the mess you had created here . . .” Chronoa kept her distance, ready to defend herself or go on the attack if needed. She could feel that he was very powerful, but he was far from his full potential, “Why? Why are you weak now? Surely you were stronger back when you defeated Trunks and the others.”

“I am not weak! I am . . . I am the most powerful.” No, he knew that he had become weaker than he had been. It was not for a lack of power, but rather his body wasn’t quite listening to him like it ought to.

“Then fight me, Zamasu. Show me this power you supposedly have.” He’d had that massive burst of energy a moment ago, but his level of ki was falling dramatically. “I’m not generally one to fight, but . . . I know I would win.” It had been a while since she’d had a proper battle, so the prospect of fighting a powerful foe was exciting . . . Zamasu was not in any shape for it, though. 

“I am immortal! You cannot defeat me!” He held his hands out to his sides, a light smirk playing on his lips. It felt good. Looking down upon someone, preparing to strike them down. It felt so right.

“No, I cannot . . . but don’t you wish I _could_ defeat you?” She held her hands out to her sides as well, prepared to manipulate time to escape whatever attack he threw at her, “Death would be an escape from this dystopia you’ve created.”

“Dystopia?” Zamasu clenched his teeth, spots of red light appearing behind him as his eyes widened considerably from her words, “Do not call it that! This timeline is perfect because of me! It is free from mortal destruction and pollution!” Lightning shot out of each red spot, heading right for his target, but it was as though she disappeared from where she had been. Instant transmission?

Zamasu turned around, assuming she had reappeared behind him, but she was not there, either. “Was she . . . only a hallucination after all?”

“No. I’m very real.” She flew up behind Zamasu, wrapping her arms around his waist as she leaned into his back. “I can manipulate time to a certain extent here.” He felt very . . . warm. She could hear his heart beating hard as well. Was that from anger?

“Get your filthy hands off me!” Why was she _hugging_ him!? How disgusting! What was this woman trying to do? But . . . he made no move to get away from her. He could probably easily pull her hands off and shove her away, but he did not do it. She felt warm. Her arms were tight around him. Zamasu had hugged Black like this many times. When Black would turn around, Zamasu would offer him the most beautiful, loving smile. “Get off me . . . get away from me . . .”

Chronoa only held him tighter, “This is not a utopia, Zamasu. It is beautiful, but there is no one to enjoy it.”

“I enjoy it.”

“Do you? So you are happy with the result of your genocide? You are happy that you are the only sentient being left?” She could not help but remember the millions of years she’d spent alone. It was mind-numbing and she wasn’t sure she could ever go back to it. Surely just one year had been enough to take its toll on him. Was that what had weakened him?

“I . . . the worlds are all free from the mortals.”

“Are you happy?”

“They can no longer cause their meaningless destruction.” 

“But are you _happy_?”

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Happy . . . “No.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he leaned his head back to look up at the sky. The sky that was so welcoming and so beautiful and yet . . . and yet was it awful that he would give it up to return to those warm nights on the terrace? He’d always had someone else around his entire life – he hadn’t realized what loneliness was.

“You aren’t purely evil. If you’d been evil from the start, you’d have been banished to the demon realm ages ago. You would never have made it as far as Kaioshin apprentice.” Chronoa slowly lowered back to the ground, bringing Zamasu down with her as she kept her hold on him. 

“I am not evil. I did what needed to be done. The cosmos cried out for help and I came to their aid. There are no more mortals. There is no more pollution, no more war, no more destruction. There is only beauty and healing and nature. All is as it should be.”

“Who are you trying to convince?”

Zamasu furrowed his brows, finally pulling away from Chronoa’s arms and taking a few steps away before turning around to face her. “Leave.”

“What?”

“Leave, before I change my mind and kill you just as I killed all of the others.” Everything she said was irritating. The Kaioshin of Time just showed up spontaneously and was trying to pick his brain? It was obnoxious! Irritating! Unnecessary! He did what the gods should have done from the beginning! There was no flaw in that manner of thinking! He was not wrong! 

“. . . oh, really?” Chronoa watched him carefully. She saw the way his breathing had become shallow, the way his hands shook. “No, I don’t think I’ll be leaving just yet. I told myself that I came here because I was interested in a ‘bad boy’ type. That’s what I kept telling myself as I got ready to travel here, too. But . . . I shouldn’t lie to myself.” 

Zamasu furrowed his brows at her, but he did not interrupt her. It had been a while since he had spoke with anyone, so all of this felt a bit surreal.

Chronoa looked him directly in his eyes, taking a few steps forward to shorten the space he’d put between them, “I am lonely. I am horribly lonely. I’ve been alive for such a long time and I’ll be around for . . . who knows how long. Everyone around me will die. I lived in isolation for so long and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I don’t know if I could do it all over again. No matter how many times I tell myself I don’t need someone around . . . it’s a lie.” She felt both pained and relieved to get that off her chest. As powerful as she was, she still had that weakness. 

“If you’re trying to imply that you and I are anything alike-“

“I am. Because we are. Well, in that respect, anyway. I would never try to wipe out everyone but myself. I can’t even begin to imagine what could have made you believe that was what the universes wanted.” She reached out to try and take hold of one of Zamasu’s hands, but he quickly put them both behind his back to avoid her. “Do you honestly still believe you were correct? Do you really believe that murdering all sentient life was not evil?” She looked up into his eyes, now close enough to him that their bodies nearly touched. He looked angry, but there was also a lot of conflict in those eyes of his. Silver eyes . . . her own eyes were gold in this form. There really was something special about him, wasn’t there?

“Murder? I cleansed the universes of the parasites which fed upon them and destroyed them with no remorse. I firmly believe that this was the correct choice. I have no regret about that whatsoever.” Why was she questioning all of this? She came here because she was lonely? Why come to an empty timeline to combat loneliness? Was that not the opposite of what she ought to do? “You’ve been here for too long. You need to leave.”

“No.”

“You will perish just as the others have.”

“I think your conscience is too shattered right now to muster up the strength you would need to take me out, Zamasu.” She placed a hand on his chest, just as she had done earlier, “I can see regret in your eyes. You said you are not happy . . . if you achieved your goal, why would you not be happy? If you do not regret your choices, then what is there for you to be unhappy with? Is it not loneliness? You were two people before, were you not?”

“Do not speak of that!” Zamasu brought his hands back to the front and quickly wrapped them around the goddess’ neck, but he did not apply any pressure. Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes, but he did his best to will them away. Why was he so easily overcome by emotion? Why did his body and his mind fight so strongly against his will? “Do not speak of them . . . you have no place to speak of them . . .” His angry tone had dropped to a whisper, his hands slipping away from her neck.

“Zamasu . . .” She had been ready to go on the defensive the moment his hands wrapped around her neck, but it was clear very quickly that he would not actually harm her. For someone who had done what all this being had done, he was quite hesitant to actually do anything to her. Even that lightning attack earlier felt half-hearted. He was too conflicted within himself to properly deal with anything from the outside. “It’s fine to talk about it, you know? You can talk to me.” The biggest mystery to her, however, was why she felt that she needed to comfort him. This god had done so many horrible things . . .

. . . well, the two people who had fused to become him had done many horrible things. This version of Zamasu was now technically a different being, was he not? She had only had contact with a few potara fusion warriors in her lifetime, long as it was, and more recently it had been the fusion warrior Vegetto, who was temporary. 

“I do not need, nor do I want, your pity. I want to be left alone.” No, that wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was to see Zamasu’s beautiful smile again. He wanted to feel Black’s hands on his face as he told him he was perfect again. He wanted to feel the warmth of their embrace as they discussed their future together again. “I do not need you. I do not need anyone.” He only needed _them_ and he could never have that. “I need only my perfect reality.”

Chronoa watched as tears slipped down his cheeks. Did he even realize he was crying now? To think that someone so powerful, so seemingly evil, was also so incredibly fragile. He was wrong. He likely knew, deep down, that he was wrong. He knew he had messed up. And now . . . now he regretted it and he was terrified to admit that. “If only you had a perfect reality. You were wrong.”

“I was not wrong! I am the only one who was right! No one understood! They were all too stuck in their ignorant ways!” He suddenly grabbed hold of her shoulders, his legs trembling slightly. “All I wanted was to make everything right! I wanted to do what no other god was willing to do!”

No one understood? “But Zamasu from the past and Zamasu from this timeline understood each other very well, didn’t they? It must have been wonderful to be with someone who shared your ideals perfectly.” Chronoa reached out to wipe some of the tears from his face. His eyes widened at the action, but he did nothing to stop her. “Come on, let’s sit down.” She sat with her legs tucked up underneath her, looking up at the other god until he reluctantly and slowly did the same.

Zamasu was young. By a mortal’s standards, he was extraordinarily old, but for a god, he was still very young. He had a lot to learn before he truly understood why the gods did not act on every injustice, “Someday, you will understand why the gods act as they do. Someday, the realization will come to you. For this timeline, that understanding will be far too late, but . . . well, this timeline never should have existed to begin with, right? It was one of several created by an alteration to a past timeline.” It still did not justify Zamasu’s actions, but it would explain why no one stepped in to try and stop him. It would also explain why she had not noticed as well.

“They understood each other perfectly. I do not want to understand that awful way of thinking of the gods. They stood by idly as their worlds were destroyed. They were useless.” Her hand was soft against his face. The way she wiped at his tears felt . . . nice. She did not get angry, but she also clearly felt he was wrong. Why did she not understand? No, none of them understood. She was not different. 

Still . . . he felt that she held more wisdom than the others. She seemed more willing to listen than the others as well. 

“You want what is best for the universes. That’s a noble thing. There is nothing wrong with wanting to protect nature from the wrong-doings of the mortals. But . . . there is good and evil in all living creatures. There were many kind and good mortals who you killed for the sake of your plan. There were plenty of mortals who loved and cared for their planets . . . and they were killed.” Chronoa placed both of her hands on Zamasu’s cheeks now as she leaned in close to him, “I cannot change your way of thinking. All I can do is hope that you understand why no one agreed with you someday.”

“. . . did you come here just to lecture me?” Soft . . . those soft hands felt so nice against his cheeks. They were like Zamasu’s hands, but smaller. Why did it feel so nice? Was it simply because he missed this kind of touch? That must be it.

“No. I came here to find some company – someone who wouldn’t die.” She offered him a smile and something about that smile made his heart beat a little harder in his chest.

That smile . . . how could she smile so brightly with reality as it was? Didn’t she say she was lonely? Didn’t she seem unhappy? That is why she had come here, correct? Then how did she smile like that? 

Not really thinking about his actions, Zamasu slowly brought his own hands up and placed them on her cheeks, just as she was doing to him. Her smile faded, but instead she just looked at him with those wide, gold eyes of hers. The Kaioshin who ruled over time . . . she must really be quite old, right? Yet she still looked quite young and even innocent, in a way. “How are you able to smile like that if you are unhappy?” Had he smiled properly even once since his fusion? He could not recall.

“. . . because I want you to smile with me.” She offered him another smile, but he only stared at her in return. Well, it wasn’t like she figured it would be that simple. Zamasu would probably be really beautiful whenever he did finally smile. He was very handsome, especially up close like she was now. His hands were also surprisingly soft and gentle. This god . . . he was very misguided. He had not been led in the right direction and he had unfortunately come across the perfect scenario to execute his destructive and ill-informed plan. 

Zamasu was not evil – his intentions had been pure and innocent in nature, but his means were horrific and inexcusable. 

Chronoa pulled her hands away from Zamasu’s face and instead placed her hands over top of his on her cheeks, “So as I asked before . . . you are lonely, right? If so . . . I’d love to come here and keep you company sometimes. I’d love to have the company myself. There’s a lot I want to understand about you and a lot I want to help you understand about the mortals you wiped out.”

Was all of this some kind of strange dream? A premonition, perhaps? It just felt so out of place from what his life had been since he’d accomplished his goal. The Kaioshin of Time, who apparently existed in a realm of her own where he could not reach . . . why would she come to him? Of all the gods, of all the timelines . . . why here? Why now? 

As these thoughts ran through his mind, he pulled one hand away from her to gently grasp one of the locks of hair that hung in the front. He admired how it felt like silk against his skin. The color was nice, too. The other gods generally had white hair, so why didn’t she? Her skin was a lovely shade of pink as well. She certainly looked the part of someone so high in rank.

He slid his hand down the length of her hair, then back up before bringing it close to his face and touching it against his lips, still without giving it much thought. He closed his eyes and just admired the scent and the feeling. It was nice. It reminded him of how Black would do this with Zamasu. So soft, such a nice smell . . . it was comforting.

“Zamasu?” Chronoa grasped the other hand which was still on her cheek, watching as his eyes snapped open and he looked a bit panicked, “It’s okay. You can touch my hair.” Her heart was beating so hard that she wondered if he could hear it. Someone so handsome and so powerful was right in front of her. He would never die. She could come back and see him whenever she wanted without any chance of interruption . . . right? “You can . . . touch . . . whatever you want . . .” She felt her face heat up at her own words and watched as a dark red tinted Zamasu’s face and ears as well. 

Was that a bit _too_ forward?

“W-what?” Had he heard her correctly? What did she mean by that? 

“I . . .” She pursed her lips, uncertain if she should repeat herself or just drop it, but . . . what did she stand to lose? “I said you can touch wherever you want. It’s fine, isn’t it? We are both powerful Kaioshin. We are both going to live for a very long time . . . we . . . we can be alone.” How long had it been? She hadn’t been intimate with anyone in ages. Maybe it had been a thousand years, or maybe one-hundred thousand . . . she wasn’t certain in the slightest. “Have you been with a woman before, or has your only partner been yourself?” She couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that. The deepening blush on the other god’s face told her all she needed to know. Outside of whatever he had done with his other self, he was most definitely inexperienced.

“I . . . I . . . that’s . . . how vulgar!” He had never been with a woman and it _did_ pique his curiosity a bit, but he had no need for such things! “You should leave, now. I want no part in your desires.” He released his hold on her hair and turned his head, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see that knowing smirk now stretched across Chronoa’s lips.

“Are you _shy_ about sex, Zamasu?” It was very cute. “Don’t worry, I don’t have those kinds of intentions.” Not on their first meeting, anyway. “But . . . I really do want to get to know you better. I want to know the Zamasu who existed before you got fed up. The real you that Gowasu knew. I want to know the Zamasu who was kind enough, gracious enough, to be chosen as Kaioshin apprentice.”

Opening his eyes, Zamasu turned his face to look at her once more. “That’s . . . he is long gone and may never have truly existed to begin with. It was all a façade to gain the knowledge and power I needed to-“

“You’re lying. It’s fine, though. I don’t expect you to drop all of the walls you’ve built up in just one meeting. So . . . it’s fine if I come back again soon, right?” She tilted her head, her hands now resting on his thighs.

Come back? She would come back here? Was something like that okay? He had worked hard to execute his plan to rid the cosmos of both the gods and the mortals, so was it really okay to allow a goddess to come and go as she pleased?

“. . . I suppose so.”

“Yes! You won’t regret it!” She stretched her hands up toward the sky, grinning from ear to ear.

“I have a very strong feeling that I _will_ regre-“ He hadn’t even managed to finish his statement before suddenly being shoved backward onto the ground. Chronoa was between his legs, her chest pressed against his as she placed her hands on either side of his head to hold herself up a bit.

“You definitely won’t!” Not allowing him a moment to react, the goddess closed the distance between them, capturing his lips as her eyes slipped closed.

At first he did not return it, but he did after a moment of hesitation and Chronoa felt uncertain hands rest themselves on her waist. So he _was_ interested after all, wasn’t he? As much as she would have liked to continue, she broke the kiss and leaned back enough to look into those bewildered, silver eyes. Her hair hung down onto his ears and she could feel his fingers move a bit against her waist, “Make sure you take care of yourself, Zamasu. Even if you are immortal, your body needs food and rest for energy just like any other living creature.” She kissed him again, but this time on his forehead instead, before pulling away from him and standing up. She felt his hands hold her a bit, but he quickly let go. He enjoyed that bit of touch from another person, didn’t he?

“Next time I come, I can bring something for us to eat! I’m an amazing cook, you know? My food is so good, even the strongest mortals faint when they eat it!” She grinned and clasped her hands together, excited at the prospect of sharing a meal with him. She would have his attention all to herself and he would never die. This was someone she could truly form a powerful bond with and it wouldn’t feel like it was ever cut short. 

“That . . . sounds terrifying.” Zamasu slowly rose to his feet as well, his mind still reeling from the kiss as he brushed the dirt off his clothes. “When . . . when will you be back?”

“Hm? Oh . . . it definitely won’t be long! I was nervous to come here. I wasn’t sure what you would be like, but . . . I’m glad to see you’ve settled down from what I saw in your history.” She smiled again, but this time it was far more brilliant. The sun was now fully over the horizon and sat behind her. The rays of light illuminated the gold and white of her clothes, but still her smile seemed brighter than even that. 

“I see . . .” Settled down? Perhaps. He didn’t hold the same anger he’d held when the mortals existed. Now he mostly just felt . . . empty.

“Aww, you sound so disappointed. I promise that it won’t be long. Then you and I can enjoy a meal together and talk for longer! If I take too long this time, though, Tokitoki will get worried and may alert the Time Patrol . . .” It would be a horrible mess if Trunks found out about this.

“It is fine. I do not need anyone else in my world.” Yes, he did. He craved that level of companionship he’d had and missed it terribly. He was still uncertain of the true intentions of this Kaioshin, but . . . they did not seem to be ill intentions. If she really did return to this place, then perhaps he would learn more about all of it. 

She laughed and shook her head, “Trying to be a tough guy, huh? Whatever makes you feel better, Zamasu. Please look forward to my return! I’m already looking forward to it myself!” Offering one last smile, she called upon her power and transported herself back to the proper timeline.

Zamasu stared at where she had stood for a long moment, his mind processing what all had just occurred. “Chronoa . . . goddess of Time . . . hm.” He glanced at the sun and suddenly it didn’t seem quite as beautiful as it had before. “I suppose that now . . . I have something else to look forward to.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art created especially for this chapter by @vampirarts on Twitter.

* * *

Chronoa had a bit more pep in her step as she moved about the small kitchen, chopping ingredients and dumping them into a boiling pot on the stove, sprinkling in various seasonings, and finally bringing the heat down to let it simmer. Trunks had taught her that last bit. “Ahhhh, this smells delicious! I bet it’s the greatest soup I’ve ever made!” She inhaled the scent that came from the pot before she put the lid back on to let it cook a bit.

She was making a meal to bring back to Zamasu like she’d promised. “They say the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! I’m not interested in his heart, per se, but maybe he’ll let his guard down a little more.” 

Just as she leaned on the counter by the stove, she sensed a presence enter the kitchen. “Ah, Trunks!” 

“A-a-ahhh . . . I didn’t mean to interrupt your cooking.” He looked absolutely mortified. 

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” Hopefully not! She had been so excited about her plans with Zamasu and the soup was turning out so well! It would be a huge disappointment if she had to work instead!

“N-no! No! Nothing happened! I just came by to check that everything was okay. But if you’re cooking, then I guess it’s just a quiet period. Ahahahaha . . .” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head while trying to slowly inch back out the same way he’d come in. He didn’t want to risk death if Chronoa tried to feed him whatever was in that pot. The stench was already making him a little queasy. 

“No problems here! Normally I’d ask if you wanted to stay and eat with me, but I’m making this for a special friend of mine, so you can’t have any of it!” Chronoa stood up straight, her hands on her hips as she beamed with pride. It was fine to talk about it like this as long as Trunks never discovered who that ‘special friend’ was.

“You’re making that for someone?” Trunks instinctively scrunched up his face. “Have they had your cooking before?” He watched as Chronoa took the lid off the pot to stir the contents and he was quite certain he saw some kind of bone sticking out of it. She was going to take that out, right?

“Nope! He’s never had it! He hasn’t had a proper appetite in a while and he’s been a little depressed, so I wanted to make him something special to help him feel better!” She brought the spoon to her lips and blew on the contents a bit to cool it before taking a sip, “Mmm! I’ve really outdone myself this time! I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he tries it!”

“I’ll keep him in my thoughts . . .”

“What was that?” Chronoa put the lid back on and glanced back at her assistant.

“A-ah, I just said I’m interested to hear his thoughts! About the meal, I mean. I uh . . . I hope he likes it!” Hopefully he had a powerful gut and wouldn’t die from her concoction. It was a wonder that _she_ was even able to stomach it, but perhaps she’d only ever had her own cooking for so long, she just didn’t realize how terrible it was. Maybe he’d treat her to a little bit of his own cooking someday. He wasn’t a master chef or anything, but at this point she’d probably think boiled water was a fine cuisine.

“I’ll be sure to let you know! He’s one of those cold and aloof types, but I’m hoping he’ll crack at least a little with this.” Hopefully he wouldn’t faint like the others, though. She’d warned him already that it was a common occurrence, but he’d probably just assume it was a plot to destroy him or something.

“Who is this ‘special friend’? Cold and aloof is your favorite type, isn’t it?” Trunks couldn’t help but smile a bit, forgetting about escaping the kitchen for now. “Is he someone you’re dating? Do gods date people?” He hadn’t ever heard of a god being in a relationship with anyone, but Chronoa had occasionally shown interest in some of the mortals of the various timelines.

It was a little difficult to see on her pink skin, but her cheeks grew a bit darker as she faltered in her movements. “N-no! He’s . . . he’s not my boyfriend!” The goddess hurriedly stirred her concoction, trying to ignore the immense burning in her face, “I guess we really don’t date or anything. We live such a long time that it would be strange to connect with only one other person, but . . . we do have _relations_ with each other sometimes.” She threw the mortal man a smirk and watched as he was now the one looking flustered, “He’s really handsome for sure, but we’ve only recently met. I want to be his friend before anything else. I don’t know if he’s ever really had a proper friend before.” 

That thought made her sad. Had Zamasu ever had someone he could call a friend? Someone he could talk to whenever? Someone he could go see for lunch or tea? Someone who wasn’t himself? She’d have to ask him about it.

“Ahaha, I see . . .” Trunks rubbed at the back of his head. He was mildly curious, but decided not to press any further. “Well I’m glad you’ve found yourself another friend.” He knew a bit about how lonely she had been before. Was she still lonely even now? Gods probably preferred to befriend gods over befriending mortals. “Maybe you can bring him back to Conton City sometime! If he’s lonely, I bet he’d like to meet everyone here.”

“Ahh ahahaha hahhh . . . I . . . don’t know about that.” Chronoa gave Trunks an awkward smile. Zamasu would absolutely hate Conton City. All of those mortals flying around? It would be a living Hell for him. “But I _would_ like to bring him here someday if I can gain his trust and if he could behave himself.” She scrunched up her face a bit and picked up the salt, dumping more of it into the soup.

Trunks shivered as he watched her ‘season’ the food. If she was trying to cheer someone up or get them to like her, her awful cooking was a really bad way to do it. He didn’t really have the heart to say that, though. She looked pretty excited about cooking for whoever it was. The way she talked about him, though . . . cold and aloof, no friends, may not like Conton City, would need to behave himself – Just what kind of person was she trying to cozy up to?

“Um, well . . . I should get going, then! I’ll try to bring you some interesting technology next time! I hope your friend likes the meal!”

“Oh, okay! I’ll see you next time!” She waved as he left, trying to ignore that sinking feeling she always got when she parted ways with him and the other patrollers. “Come on, Chronoa, get it together. You can’t get attached to them.” They never stayed around for long and they all would live very short lives. “They are your employees – not your friends.” 

_Not your friends_.

“You should befriend the gods. They’ll live a lot longer, unlike the mortals.”

_The mortals don’t live long._

“I wonder how long Trunks’ race generally lives.”

_He will die._

Chronoa swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat as she suddenly shut off the heat on the stove and moved the pot off the hot burner. “What kind of things am I thinking about? This is ridiculous. You lived alone for such a long time! Why are you getting upset over trivial things like this?” She wiped away the tears that managed to brim her eyes, “Chin up! You found someone who is immortal! You found someone you can get close to for the rest of your life! He’s right in front of you!” 

Was Zamasu interested in her companionship, though? She seemed to at least pique his interest a small bit the last time she was there. He was definitely a little crazy, but not crazy enough to actually try to kill her. Would he have regained some strength this time? “If not, my soup will be sure to do the trick! He’ll feel so much better once he’s eaten a hearty meal!” 

With renewed confidence, Chronoa began to pack the soup for her future friend.

* * *

It had been a while since the Kaioshin of Time had visited him and Zamasu began to wonder if he’d simply dreamt the entire event. It had seemed so real, though. It didn’t really matter one way or the other, did it? He did not need her visits. 

“It is better to live in silence than to have that noisy woman around.” Zamasu was seated at the base of a tree, his left leg stretched out in front of him and the right leg bent at the knee so he could rest his arm on it. “Silence with only the sound of rustling leaves and chirping birds . . .” He took in a deep breath, slowly releasing it as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the trunk behind him. “Yes. This is perfection. This is what I wanted.”

_“Are you happy?”_

_“They can no longer cause their meaningless destruction.”_

_“But are you happy?”_

_“No.”_

“That wasn’t true at all. I am happy. This is my utopia. My creation I did so much and sacrificed so much for. I am happy.”

He’d been trying to develop a habit of reminding himself how wonderful his new world was whenever he began to feel the grip of loneliness tugging at his mind. He was not wrong. His way was the only way to achieve true peace and perfection and divinity. This timeline was the most pure and magnificent timeline. Though . . . what was stopping another horrible mortal from developing a time machine and coming to ruin everything?

“I am immortal. I am all-powerful. I can stop anyone who should try to destroy my utopia.” He opened his eyes once more and held a hand up, his fingers curling into a tight fist for a moment before he slowly lowered his arm beside him. “Hmph . . . I feel that my strength has certainly returned to me. It must have been my poor eating and sleeping habits after all.” Though he wasn’t keen on taking advice from others, he had done his best to eat properly and more often. He had also tried to have a good sleeping schedule, but . . . sleep was still something that did not come easily to him. Sleeping on the ground wasn’t very comfortable.

 _There were beds in the cabin_.

The cabin was still out of the question.

“My intelligence is greater than that of any mortal – surely I am capable of building a bed of my own that is superior to anything they had ever made.” He could find a cavern and make a home for himself there. A home in a naturally-occurring shelter . . . that aligned quite well with his ideal, natural world. “That actually does sound like an interesting task to preoccupy my busy mind. The longer I lack a goal, the more my mind wanders to ridiculous things.” Ridiculous, lonesome, depressing things that he would rather not think about.

“Though a cavern would likely be home to many animals and insects as well.” That was yet another thing he’d taken for granted with the cabin and his life in the realm of the Kais – enclosed walls that kept wild creatures and temperature fluctuations out. “I could always simply create a home like I had with Gowasu, though that would take away from the natural beauty of this place . . .” It would definitely be a bad mark against the aesthetic he was going for, “Though as the creator of such a perfect realm, why should I not be allowed my comforts?”

The god sighed and looked down at his own lap for a moment, preparing to get up once more, but watched as a small spider crawled up onto his outstretched leg. “Just like that? You’re really going to walk atop the body of a god without a second thought?” But of course the arachnid did not respond. It was not a being with enough intelligence to understand or to reply. Such a being was also not capable of destruction on the same level as more advanced mortal life. That is why the animals and insects and such were left alone. “Even if you were allowed to live, shouldn’t your instincts tell you to stay away from me? How impudent.” He gave the creature a flick, sending it sailing into the tall grass nearby.

“Did you just call a spider impudent?”

Zamasu’s eyes widened a bit from the sudden voice nearby, but his mind quickly processed who that voice belonged to. “Ah, so you returned after all.” He raised his gaze to meet the golden eyes of the Kaioshin of Time, Chronoa. “Somehow I did not sense your arrival.” He should just kill her. This woman did nothing but grate on his nerves and cause him to needlessly question his own actions, but . . . why did he not have the desire to eliminate her? In fact, his pulse had picked up a bit now that she was here. It must have been because she’d startled him with her sudden presence.

“I was pretty shocked, too. You must have been really focused on talking to that spider. I walked right up to you.” Chronoa offered him a grin, her bowl of soup in her hands with a cover on top of it, “I brought you something to eat just like I promised! I hope you’re hungry!” She held the bowl up a bit to show him. 

“Is that so?” Zamasu’s eyes trailed from her face to the large, covered bowl in her hands. He did smell a very strange odor from her direction – was it this mystery meal she had concocted? Didn’t she say her cooking made people faint? “I am not particularly hungry.”

“Ah- but . . . can’t you at least try it?” She lowered the bowl a bit, her brows turning upward. “I worked really hard to make sure it was delicious. I even took some tips from Tr- uh, one of my assistants and I kept tasting it while cooking so I know it’s really good!” She had been looking forward to seeing him try her cooking. Was he really not going to eat any of it?

“You tried it yourself?” If she tried it herself and did not faint, then perhaps it wasn’t so awful. He was actually a bit hungry, if he was truly honest with himself, so maybe just a small taste would not hurt. Something about that upset look on her face was irritating. “If it is awful, I’m not going to eat it. Do not fuss if that is the case.” Zamasu slowly rose to his feet. He had not missed her sudden hesitation in saying the name of this ‘assistant’. Why did she look flustered? Why did she cut herself off? Perhaps it was his paranoia that made him focus so intensely on everything she said and did, but a name beginning with ‘Tr’ that she would not say? 

He could not help but think of Trunks. If that were the case-

“Uhhh, do you have a table somewhere we could use? Maybe that cabin I saw not far from here?”

“ ** _NO_**.” Zamasu briefly clenched his hands into fists, his eyes narrowing sharply at the goddess and her startled expression before he quickly relaxed again, “No.” His voice was softer this time, that dead look returning to his eyes as he turned to another nearby tree. With one quick motion, he produced a ki blade and cut the tree down, then jumped and kicked the tree to send it flying away from them. “This will suffice.” He motioned to the remaining stump as the blade around his hand dissipated.

“That was pretty over-the-top.” Chronoa blinked a few times before offering him a slight smirk, “Are you trying to show off for me, Zamasu?”

“I have no need for such things. There is neither god nor mortal who can compare to me in any way.” 

Chronoa pursed her lips as she set the bowl down atop the stump, “It’s something people do when they want someone to like them.” Either he was extremely dense or extremely disinterested – or maybe even both at the moment. She wasn’t necessarily romantically interested in him, but she was quite interested in burning down the walls he’d built up around himself. There was a better personality buried in there somewhere and she was determined to bring it out someday.

They had all the time they could ever need, after all.

“Why would I want something like that? I have no need for it. There is no benefit for me.” Zamasu eyed the dish with utmost suspicion before he slowly lowered himself to the ground. 

“Of course there is a benefit! If I like you, I’ll bring you more food and treats and the cool things my assistants bring back to me!” Chronoa sat down beside him, her legs tucked up underneath her. 

“Whether or not your cooking could be considered a benefit remains to be seen, Kaioshin of Time.”

She wanted to protest that he called her by her title rather than by her name, but he had just pulled the lid off the dish and she didn’t want to distract him from it. 

Chronoa beamed with pride as the smell of her cooking wafted past her face, “It’s really the greatest thing I’ve ever made! It was really delicious! I think you’ll love it!” Her heart was racing with excitement and anticipation as she tried to gauge his thoughts based on his expression. He looked . . . mortified, “Oh come on! Don’t judge it when you’ve not even tried it yourself!”

Whatever was in the bowl that sat before him, it was a far cry from what could be considered a meal fit for any living creature, let alone the most supreme god. The odor was most foul and the sight of it made his stomach churn. The color was unappealing at best and the few ingredients he could make out were most definitely inedible. “Is this some kind of joke? I’m not interested in humoring your pranks, goddess.” He turned to glare sharply at her.

“A joke? A prank? What are you trying to say? Isn’t it really cruel to say something like that when you haven’t even tried it? Does it really look that awful?” Her voice wavered a bit as she gripped the fabric of her pants. He’d not even taken a single sip of the soup and already he was saying such mean things! She’d been told in the past that her cooking wasn’t so great (their exact words may have been more harsh than that), but surely she’d improved since then! People had even fainted because it was so full of flavor! . . . right? That _was_ the reason, wasn’t it?

She was serious? She truly thought this disaster of a dish was something he would enjoy? What kind of creature could live for as long as she surely had and still not be able to cook even the simplest thing? 

Zamasu’s glare faded as he allowed his gaze to linger on her face for a moment longer before looking back down at the so-called meal. Was that a bone in there? Yes . . . yes, that was a bone. “I’ll remind you again that I am immortal.”

“I’m not trying to poison you!” The more he spoke, the more upset she felt and the more she regretted making him anything at all. She’d been really proud of the soup she’d made and he was insulting it left and right without so much as trying it! “I really did put my best effort into making that for you. I thought it was really delicious! Maybe it just smells and looks strange to you because it isn’t the same kind of food you’re accustomed to!”

“That is a valid argument, however . . .” He peered into the murky substance in the bowl, his lip curling with disgust. Whether he was accustomed to something or not, surely a food with an odor this foul was not edible to any living creature. It was difficult to believe that it could smell so bad and yet taste even remotely palatable. 

“Just try it! If you don’t like it, you don’t have to finish it – just like you said. At least try it before you say such horrible things about something I worked so hard on! Don’t you have even a shred of decency?” She gripped her pants tighter still, her knuckles lightening as she did. She was trying her best not to get visibly upset about it, but it definitely hurt. This was the person she was trying to befriend and he was being so awful. Well . . . he wasn’t exactly known for his kindness, so expecting anything different was really _her_ mistake.

“You speak of decency, but yet you ask me to consume something like-“

“Oh, just shut up and try it already! Stop being such a whiner!” Chronoa pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing in frustration. Why was he being so difficult!?

“W-whiner?” He once again looked to her, this time with one brow arched a bit higher than the other. Who did she think she was talking to? Did she not have even an ounce of fear? She knew what all he had done and what he was capable of, did she not? Yet she still spoke to him in such a way . . . what an ignorant woman. 

Though . . . something about her lack of fear was interesting. Was it a lack of knowledge and understanding, or was it because she hid some immense power within her? 

Zamasu sighed and grabbed the spoon that had been tied to the lid of the bowl as he once more faced this ‘soup’ she had made for him.

Chronoa’s grin stretched across her face as her irritation was quick to subside. She was still gripping the fabric of her pants, but now it was due to anticipation. Regardless of what Zamasu was saying about it, that soup definitely had a fantastic taste! It was better than anything she’d made before! She even wiggled a bit where she sat as she watched Zamasu take a spoonful and slowly lift it to his lips. Maybe if he liked it, he’d trust her just a little bit more! She’d slowly break down those walls and get to the good Zamasu who had been buried wi-

“Guh!!” Zamasu dropped the spoon into the bowl as he leaned to the side to spit out whatever mess he’d just put in his mouth. He’d tried to swallow it, but his body was rejecting it vehemently. Even though he’d spit it out so quickly, the taste lingered in his mouth and it felt like both his nose and throat were on fire. There was no pain, of course, but the tingling sensation was horribly uncomfortable and the foul taste was actually making him a bit dizzy. “I knew it!” He coughed, tempted to try cutting off his own tongue to see if that would rid of him of the flavor, “What is your goal!? What are you after!?”

Chronoa stood up quickly when Zamasu rose to his feet, “What are you talking about!? I told you that it wasn’t a trick! Why are you reacting so badly!?” Did he really hate it that much? “I . . .I really did try my best! I don’t cook very often and I was trying something new, so I-“

“Ugh . . .” Zamasu grabbed at his own throat and shivered a bit. It was as though the filth was spreading throughout his body. The taste wouldn’t go away and seemed to only grow in intensity. “No living creature should be subjected to this.” Was this was it felt like to be poisoned as an immortal? “The death I dealt the mortals was far more kind.” Was this what Gowasu experienced before he died? How cruel . . . “This poison will not kill me!”

“It isn’t poison!” Chronoa clenched her hands into fists as she stood her ground. Even as Zamasu slowly approached her, she did not budge. He looked . . . quite uneasy on his feet. Was he still not sleeping well? “If I wanted to kill you, I could have done so already.”

“Y-you!” Zamasu’s blood was boiling, but he felt horribly disoriented. What was going on? “You really think you could kill me!? I am immortal! I am the most powerful . . . the most . . .the most pow-“ He briefly saw Chronoa’s look of anger turn to a look of concern before he felt his own legs give out beneath him.

“W-woah!” Chronoa caught Zamasu as he fell into her, her arms quickly wrapping around him to hold him up, “Zamasu?” Not again. Had he seriously fainted? Why did so many people faint after eating even the smallest bit of her cooking? “Was it too much seasoning, maybe? Is it dangerous to use too much? I did go a little heavier with the salt than I usually do . . .”

She felt horrible about it, though. She’d given him hell about not wanting to at least try it and now he’d collapsed. “I’m sorry. I felt really confident about it.” She looked down at the unconscious face resting over her bosom. “There’s no way in hell you’re going to trust me now, huh?” Still, he looked so peaceful with his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. “Let’s get you somewhere you can rest, yeah?” He wasn’t heavy, especially not for someone with her strength. “I’ll carry you to that cabin I saw. It means something to you, doesn’t it?”

He hadn’t wanted to go there when she mentioned the table and it was the only structure she’d seen – not that she’d explored this planet yet. His flash of anger in that moment was enough to show her that he had a soft spot for it. 

“I don’t know what your feelings are about it, but . . . there’s probably a bed in there, right?” She lightly ran her hand across his forehead, brushing his hair out of his face, “Heh . . . you look really innocent like this. That’s really misleading, you know?” He had such a sweet and pretty face. It was unkind that fate had given him a twisted mind and heart.

* * *

_Screams._

_Screaming, crying, begging . . . bleeding, dying . . . silence._

_Silence . . ._

_The silence that washed over a mortal upon their death was one of the sweetest things. He had done that. He, a god of creation, had taken away countless lives. Why should a god not be able to retract that which he had given? The mortals were given life, given intelligence, given capability . . . and for what?_

_Their screams had been beautiful. The way they begged him to spare them was magnificent. It was the most spectacular sound! Even now, even now he could still hear it . . . he could hear it and it was like music!_

_No . . . no right now he really did hear music. Music or . . . humming?_

It was soft and quiet. A lovely voice that gently hummed as he felt a hand run through his hair. Who? Even though he’d not experienced anything like this, it somehow gave him a nostalgic feeling.

Zamasu’s eyes fluttered open, but he did not yet move. He could feel something soft and warm beneath his head, but it did not quite feel like a pillow. When had he gone into a building? There was only one left, wasn’t there? The cabin. This was . . . another room in the cabin, wasn’t it? A room that Zamasu and Black had not used. That knowledge alone ought to have been enough to put him on edge, but instead he continued to feel calm.

Ah, the soup. He’d taken only one small mouthful of that wretched mess, but he felt as though he’d been poisoned. Was it really not meant to hurt him? Was it not a means to knock him unconscious and take him away somewhere? It was difficult to believe. What did the goddess of Time stand to gain by trying to show him kindness? What did she want? She insisted it was due to her loneliness and longing for companionship, but it just seemed so unfathomable that she would choose him of all the creatures who must still be alive in the various other timelines.

But for now, he did not ask the question. The soft humming in Chronoa’s voice paired with the way her fingers ran through his hair and rubbed at his scalp was so calming. Black would often rest atop Zamasu in this way, Zamasu’s delicate hands caressing Black’s head and back so gently while he spoke in his smooth voice . . . Was he on top of Chronoa right now? Then the softness underneath his head must be-

“Oh, are you awake now?” The humming had stopped abruptly, as did the movement of her hand. “Sorry. I’ll do my best to make the food better next time.”

“Please never try to cook for me again. I’ve never known of a dish which had such catastrophic results.” Why was he talking to her so calmly? Why did he not get off of her right now? Why did he not strike her down for what she’d just done to him?

“Maybe you can teach me how to cook sometime.” Chronoa grinned down at the other god as her hand once more began to run through his hair. She thought for sure he’d be furious once he woke up, but he was oddly calm. “Ah, I brought you to that cabin. You seemed to really not want to go to this place, but . . .”

“. . .” She did not need to know the history of this place. No one needed to know he had such a pathetic attachment to a mortal-made structure. “Why are you still here?” He leaned his head back a bit so he could look up at her face. She sat propped up against the headboard and his own head was most definitely resting on her breasts. He wanted to think it was vulgar of her to place him in such a way and yet . . . it felt very comforting. In the end . . . it was not vulgar or sinful since they were both gods, right? He’d said that all along, so it would be improper to criticize it now.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. Clearly you must not hate it since you’ve stayed put.” She couldn’t help but smile down at him as she moved the hand in Zamasu’s hair to instead rub lightly at his back.

It was nice. This small moment was nice. Just lying in bed with a handsome man resting on her chest, her hand in his hair or on his back and just rubbing soothing circles on him . . . and it was quiet. How long had she been waiting for him to wake up? As usual, the passage of time was lost on her. 

“I would say you are wrong to touch such a supreme being, but . . . as the Kaioshin of Time, you are ranked quite high, aren’t you? I had forgotten such a being even existed. It was my own oversight.” This goddess was ranked above all other Kaioshin. Her position was of utmost importance. She seemed like quite an airhead, but surely it was an act of sorts. Was it because she desired to be approachable? To be likable? “Should you not despise me for what I did to this timeline?”

“It’s like I said – this timeline never should have existed. Of course I do not agree with what you did, but . . . I also do not agree with the action which caused this timeline to exist in the first place. Both you and Trunks were wrong.”

Zamasu’s eyes narrowed at that name, “Trunks? So you know him . . .” His pulse sped up just hearing his name, just _saying_ his name. Zamasu had managed to win in the end, but not after that bastard Saiyan had caused immense trouble for him . . . for _them_. They would still be here now if he had not ruined everything.

“A-ah ahahaha well, I looked into the history of this timeline – that’s all.” This was definitely not the time for Zamasu to figure out how she knew Trunks. To call it an absolute disaster would be an understatement. Zamasu’s mood changed on a whim and she couldn’t predict how he’d react to anything at all. The speed at which he changed from calm to enraged was unbelievable. “But . . . I don’t hate you. I probably should. You killed the gods and the mortals alike. It’s like I said before – I’m really lonely. You’re someone who will be around even longer than I will. And . . .” She stared into his eyes for a moment, watching as they slowly fell half-lidded. Was he comfortable like this? “You’re really easy on the eyes, ya know? A handsome, young, powerful god!” 

“Hmph.” Zamasu closed his eyes entirely, trying to ignore her words. He wasn’t able to stop the light pink that tinted his cheeks, though. It was fine for him to compliment his own appearance, but it was strange when someone else did it. “For someone of your rank, your personality continues to disturb me.” Zamasu began to sit up, but Chronoa’s hands were quick to wrap themselves around his head and pull him back against her chest.

“Where are you going?”

“I am awake; there is no need to continue resting, especially not in such an inappropriate place.” He pursed his lips as he felt her hold him tighter, his head pressing against her breasts. Regardless of what he’d said about a god’s actions always being divine, her current actions were more akin to something a mortal would do. It was vulgar, regardless of her intentions.

“Inappropriate? It would only be inappropriate if we were both undressed. Even then, though . . .”

Zamasu grabbed hold of her hands to pull them away before quickly scrambling from the bed and standing up beside it instead. It was only then, while he watched her sit up with a pout on her face, that he realized she was missing her white overcoat and he was missing his as well. “You’ve even removed some of our clothing.” Even if it was such an unnecessary garment, it felt horribly indecent. 

“You’re overreacting. Stop acting like you’re so innocent . . . even if you’ve not been with a woman, you’ve been with a man. You’ve also slaughtered our own kind as well as the mortals.” She moved so she now sat on the edge of the bed, her brows furrowed as she studied the face of the god who stood before her. He was so difficult to read. He didn’t seem angry with her, but his irritation with anything he deemed ‘inappropriate’ was almost to the point of obsession.

“Acting like I am innocent?” He huffed a laugh, his eyes narrowing as one corner of his lips dared to tug upward into a smirk, “Whenever did I do that? I know that my ways would be considered foul, corrupt, dishonorable, even _evil_.” He slowly stepped back to the edge of the bed until he was directly in front of Chronoa and could then lean down until their faces were close, “But I know that my way was the correct way. I could not sit idly by and watch as the same mistakes and misfortune repeated themselves until the end of time.” He studied the gold eyes which peered directly into his own. What was she searching for? What did she want? What answers did she seek? “Even if my methods were a bit filthy, the end result was a purified timeline. The beauty of this world has easily washed away any sin that had marred it in the past. Even my own actions were not sinful because my goal was the purification of the universes.” That smirk became a somewhat euphoric smile. Yes, yes that had been the goal all along. How had he ever doubted his own actions?

Chronoa was quiet for a long moment as she studied his eyes and his face. He really believed every word he was saying, didn’t he? He looked so drunk off his own achievements, like he truly thought he was the savior of the universes. “Purification?” Her expression was twisted into that of disbelief and frustration, “You didn’t purify these worlds – you stained them.”

Zamasu’s pupils shrank and he felt a static-like sensation shoot through his body, but he did not move even a centimeter from where he was. “Stained them. How dare you imply that I-“

“You stained them. You’ve tainted them for the rest of their days.” Chronoa’s heart was pounding, but her expression and her voice did not waver. She could not show fear to this wild god. How could she get through to someone who was so damn crazy? And why did she feel such a powerful urge to sway him? “You poor thing. You poor, poor thing. Who was it who led you so far astray?” There must be something he longed for, something she could play to in order to win his trust. Was something like that possible once someone was this far gone?

Stained. Tainted. Astray. What was this woman on about? “You are blind if you do not understand my goal. No one understood it. No one will ever see it as I saw it.” He was shaking and it felt almost as though the room had begun to twist and turn. He felt like he was drowning, like it was difficult to breathe. Was this an after effect of that soup? “No one gets it. You’re all ignorant. You’re all blind. You’re the ones who were led astray!” He stood up straight and took a step back.

“No. No, that’s not it at all.” Chronoa kept calm. Raising her voice would only make him act more wild, wouldn’t it? He really was just like an untamed beast. “I see everything in every timeline. I have seen more horrific things than you can possibly imagine.”

“Then how can you possibly believe that I was wrong to do what I did!? You’ve seen how the mortals are! They’ve tricked you . . .” Even this high-ranking Kaioshin had been seduced by the words and the ways of the mortals. “The worlds are not tainted – the _gods_ were tainted. You all lost your way, but I stayed the course! I found the path to perfection and purity! I did what needed to be done!” He clenched his hands into fists, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as he stared intensely into the eyes of the goddess who still sat on the bed.

“Zamasu, calm down.” She slowly stood from the bed, looking pitifully at the shaking disaster of a god in front of her. “Why don’t we go have some-“

“I should kill you. I should have killed you the moment you stepped foot on my perfect world.” 

“And what good would that do you now? What divine intentions are you trying to fulfill by murdering the Kaioshin of Time?” As much of an airhead as she could be, she’d been around for an extraordinary amount of time and she’d had to deal with more head-games than she could count.

“You are trying to ruin everything I have accomplished!” He did not budge, even as she got close once more.

“Am I? If my words are wrong, then they should mean absolutely nothing to you, right? But . . .” She now stood close enough that her chest was pressed against his as she looked up at him, her own face stern, yet calm, “If my words make you nervous, it is because you see at least some truth in them. I’m not here to hurt you or to undo anything that has been done. This is the fate of this timeline and it is my responsibility to leave it as it is, no matter the outcome.” Even in a timeline where so many good people had perished – she could not undo their demise. This was a darker part of her sworn duty. 

Some truth to her words? No, he did not feel that way at all! He . . . may have been a bit uncertain, but . . . “What do you want, then?” He had nothing to say against it. Just considering her words made it feel like his brain was scrambled. 

“I just want companionship, is all. A god who isn’t all prim and proper like the others. Though . . . it looks like you’re a bit too crazy for something like that.” Chronoa decided to push her luck a bit and gently reached out to wrap her hands around Zamasu’s closed fists.

“I am not crazy.” Even if he did nothing and said nothing to acknowledge her touch, his fists did loosen up a bit and his voice had dropped significantly in volume. Even his eyes didn’t look so wild.

“That’s why I said you’ve been misled, misguided . . . that you’ve never been evil. You had good intentions, you just . . .” Chronoa sighed. Discussing this further right now may only cause his anger to flare again. “Why don’t you and I have some tea together and calm down, okay? Wouldn’t that be nice? Maybe we can sit out on that terrace or something.”

Have tea . . . the terrace . . . misled . . . misguided. “Ah . . . okay.” Tea did sound nice. It had been a while, but the leaves should still be good. “I will prepare it, though – you cannot be trusted with neither food nor drink.”

* * *

While Zamasu prepared the tea in the kettle, Chronoa leaned against a counter nearby. Neither of them bothered to put their overcoats back on and neither had said a word to the other after they’d entered the kitchen. Chronoa watched him carefully, though, taking note of how uneasy and unfocused he looked. Was he thinking over her words? Was he contemplating what to do with her? Was he shaken? She couldn’t quite tell and she knew he’d never admit to any of it even if she asked. It was best not to poke a bear, though, so she thought it was wise not to press further for now.

Zamasu did his best to make the tea while he felt her gaze upon him. Her words still rang through his head and just as quickly as he had felt so confident in his actions, his confidence had melted away once more. How could his way not be the right way? What other way was there to bring justice to the universes? What other option could there have been? It shook him to his core and bothered him that this woman made him question such things after everything he had already done. He had accomplished his goal and seen the fruits of his labor, so what sense was there in listening to her useless words now?

“Why don’t you just heat the water in the microwave? Wouldn’t that be faster?” Chronoa leaned a bit closer, but was careful to leave some space between them as she pointed to the device that hung above the stove.

“W-what do you mean?” It had taken him a moment to register her question as he’d been so lost in his own mind. “Microwave?”

“Yeah! You just put it in there and you can press the beverage button and it uses some kind of science and technology to make the liquid hot!” She offered him a grin, but he didn’t seem at all amused. 

“That sounds terrible.” He eyed this ‘microwave’ for a moment.

“No! It works great! I do it all the time!”

“Your opinion in a kitchen is not to be trusted.” He shut off the stove and lifted the kettle, pouring the tea into the two cups waiting on the counter. Tea with her on the terrace . . . something felt wrong about that. It was not she who he ought to be sharing tea with . . . and yet . . . the desired couple was no longer possible.

“Hmph . . . you know, I’m pretty good with mortal technology! I love seeing all of the new things they’ve developed, so sometimes when he comes to visit me, Trunks brings me new things!”

It wasn’t until she heard the shattering of the cups as Zamasu dropped the tea kettle that she realized just what she’d let slip.

Trunks.

She could cover it up, right? She could play it off like she’d said another name! But as the genocidal god turned to her with those wide, crazed, silver eyes, she knew it was too late for that. He was shaking again, his breath audibly uneven again, and the way he bit off each word as he spoke made it quite clear that she’d truly angered him this time.

“ ** _What . . . did you . . . just . . . say?_** ”


End file.
